Fallow Land
by Shellecah
Summary: A business magnate bitter toward women vows to go to any lengths to break up the courtship between his son and a Long Branch gal.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

The tallest lawman Lily Roslyn had ever seen walked through the batwings at sundown. An air of strength and sureness surrounded him, like no harm could befall any worthy body in the room while he was there. He looked across the saloon at Kitty, and seemed not to notice Lily, though she stood by Kitty at the bar.

A slim fellow with a limp and a short older man followed the lawman. The slim one saw Lily at once and smiled at her. She liked his eyes at first glance, and thought him a nice sort. The older man looked keen and distinguished yet unassuming, and Lily sensed that he was good.

"Here come my best friends," said Kitty. "I'll introduce you."

"Are they married?" said Lily. When her father died a year after her mother, Lily sold their Nebraska farm, moved to Dodge, and hired on at the Long Branch solely to catch a husband, as she confided to Kitty.

"No," said Kitty, her gaze fixed on the lawman. "All unmarried."

"You love the tall one," said Lily, her pretty mouth with its fuller lower lip pouting. "He's the best one."

"Course he is," said Kitty. "But I love all three of 'em in different ways."

"Hello, Kitty," said the lawman, tipping his hat.

"Lily, this is Marshal Dillon," said Kitty. She slipped her arm possessively around Matt's waist in an impulsive gesture. Showing affection in front of folks made him uneasy, so Kitty was relieved when the marshal's hand moved to her arm.

The marshal tugged his hat brim again. "Lily," he said.

"Marshal," said Lily.

"And that's Chester Goode," said Kitty.

"Miss Lily," said Chester. He had artless brown eyes which eagerly admired her, like she was a lady instead of a gal.

"Lily Roslyn. Just call me Lily, Mr. Goode," she said. Her large round eyes were soft yet clear like russet crystal.

"Lily Roslyn. That's a pretty name. Just call me Chester."

"And this is Doc Adams," said Kitty.

"How do," said Doc.

"A doctor," said Lily. "I knew you were important. I saw it soon as you walked in."

"Well, I don't know about that," said Doc.

"Neither do I," said Chester.

"I know I'm pleased to meet you," Doc said to Lily.

Matt, Chester and Doc gazed at Lily, and Kitty felt pleased, a little anxious and a bit jealous. Though Lily was good for business, Kitty had no doubt the young woman would work only a short time at the Long Branch. Lily would have her choice of men seeking a wife. So far as Kitty knew, Matt wasn't thinking of marriage, and she hoped Lily got nowhere with the marshal.

Slightly taller than Kitty, Lily was twenty-two years old, and slender yet shapely. She had wavy chestnut hair, thick and silky, a flawless light-tan complexion, and a delicate nose. Her face glowed with a depth of feeling which illuminated her eyes. Doc later described Lily's expression to Kitty as profoundly theatrical.

"Can I buy you a beer, Lily?" said Chester.

"I'd like that," said Lily. "If Doc will join us."

"Be happy to," said Doc. "I'll buy for you _and_ Chester. Save Chester the trouble of asking me to loan 'im twenty cents."

"You're holdin' me to embarrassment, Doc," said Chester. "I wasn't gonna ask you, anyway. I was fixin' to ask Mr. Dillon."

"I imagine so," said Doc. "You already got a free supper outa me."

"Well, I . . . jest . . . ." Flustered, Chester looked at Lily.

"That's alright, Matt," said Doc, as Matt reached into his pocket. "This round's on me. Sam, five beers. Why don't we all set."

"You and Chester go ahead with Lily, Doc," said Kitty. "I'll stay here at the bar with Matt."

"Perhaps we can chat another time, Marshal," said Lily.

"Sure," said Matt. Lily took Chester's arm with one hand and Doc's with the other, and walked between them to a table.

"She's a very pretty young woman," said Matt.

"She's beautiful," said Kitty. "She's also lookin' for a husband, if you're interested."

"She's a little young for me," said Matt. "And I'm not lookin' to get married any time soon."

"I noticed," said Kitty. Chester slid his chair close to Lily's and laid his hand on hers. Kitty couldn't hear what they said, as the Long Branch was noisy from the night crowd and player piano. Lily moved her face near Chester's until their noses almost touched, and said something that made him laugh. Sitting on Lily's other side, Doc spoke, and Chester frowned and said something to Doc that made Lily laugh.

"They're havin' a good time over there," said Kitty.

"Wanna join 'em?" said Matt.

"No," said Kitty. "I wanna stand here with you, for some reason."

"Nice to feel wanted," said Matt. He drank from his beer.

Kitty wondered how Matt would react if she kissed him there at the bar. Her eyes twinkled at him, her smile close-mouthed and crooked.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and shifted his weight. "What is it, Kitty?" said the marshal.

"Nothing." She touched her hand to his face. She wanted to say "I love you," but thought better of it. Matt attended to his beer.

"There's Lance Prescott," said Kitty, as a handsome young man walked through the batwings. "He should like Lily. He's what she's searching for. Their names match. Lance and Lily."

Watching the batwings for new arrivals, Lily looked stunned when she saw Lance. He stood still as he sighted her, then removed his hat and held it to his chest, his expression mirroring Lily's.

"Mr. Prescott doesn't mind Lance patronizing saloons," said Matt, "but he doesn't want his boy keeping company with the gals. Lance is too young and . . . dreamy . . . to know what he's gettin' into."

"My guess is he'll be gettin' into Lily," said Kitty.

Matt looked at Kitty and felt a jolt. With a few breaths, he recognized the jolt as mild shock, an emotion that rarely came over the marshal, even when a gunman got the drop on him. Kitty could comport herself like a gentlewoman when she wanted to, and usually showed good breeding except when riled.

Matt and Kitty watched Lance approach the table where Lily sat with Chester and Doc, introduce himself to Lily, bow, and kiss her hand. "Lance is no boy," said Kitty. She wasn't sorry that she'd shocked Matt a little. He was so strait-laced. "He's two years older than Lily, and far more experienced," Kitty said. "She just came from a Nebraska farm in the middle of no place; grew up there. Lance went to school in New York and he's been to Europe. Places like Paris and Rome. Not to mention my upstairs rooms."

Lance moved to the bar beside Matt. Of medium height and trim build, Lance had finely cut patrician features and expressive eyes with long lashes. A strong jaw and decidedly masculine aspect saved him from looking pretty.

"I'll have a beer at Lily's table, Sam," said Lance.

"Comin' up," said Sam.

"Lance," said Matt.

"Marshal."

"You know there'll be trouble if your father happens in and sees you with Lily," said Matt.

"I don't care what my father thinks," said Lance. "He's hard and judgmental, and conceited. And I'm a grown man, Marshal. I may live in my father's home, but I make my own decisions. Not meaning any disrespect, but what I do is my business."

Lance walked to Lily's table, seated himself and spoke to Chester, who started chatting with him. Doc and Lily joined the conversation, and after a moment, Doc rose from his chair next to Lily and offered the seat to Lance. He scooted the chair near Lily on one side, while Chester remained just as close at her other side. Doc took his beer and moved to Matt and Kitty at the bar.

"Now, I could be wrong," said Doc, "but I don't think Chester's odd man out over there. Take a look." Lily gave Lance a quick light kiss, then turned and kissed Chester the same way.

"Well, Chester has the sense not to get serious about her," said Matt. "Can't say the same for Lance. His head's in the clouds. Mr. Prescott's a widower, and Lance is his only child. Prescott spoils the boy so he's never done a lick of work in his life."

"Lance doesn't need to work," said Kitty. "Jefferson Prescott's a rich landowner. They're from old money. Prescott came to Dodge to build new business. Besides, what's so dreadful about Lily that makes Lance too good to court her?" A pucker appeared between Kitty's brows and her mouth tightened.

"She's beautiful; I know that much," said Doc. He sipped his beer. "If young Prescott is too snippety good for Lily, I'm next in line. Don't think he is, though. I'd say he's anything but."

"Lily said courtin' words to me and Doc, Kitty," said Matt. "And she's over there sparkin' Lance and Chester."

"What of it?" said Kitty. "How else will she know who her best match is."

"It's proper for a woman to let the man do the courtin'," said Matt.

"Lily won't have any lack of suitors," said Doc. "She won't be able to stop 'em."

"Oh, really, Matt," said Kitty.

"Speak of trouble," said the marshal. He straightened up, gulped from his beer, and put the mug on the bar. "Jeff Prescott just came in," said Matt.

Lance resembled his father, except that at forty-eight years of age, the older Prescott was a little taller and heavier, with a slightly larger frame than his son; and unlike Lance, Jeff had flinty eyes and a hard mouth.

Lily sat with Lance and Chester at a table farther from the batwings near the wall, and Jeff Prescott walked to the bar without seeing his son.

"Lance, is that man your father?" said Lily. "You look like him."

"My goodness," said Chester. "It's your daddy, Lance, sure 'nough."

"It's alright," said Lance. "He never hit me, Chester. Not in my life. Never laid a rough hand on me."

"Your pa doesn't hold with drinking?" said Lily.

"Father's got nothing against drinking or saloons," said Lance. He took Lily's soft hand with its red-painted nails in both of his. His hands were smallish, soft as her own and paler. Some time had passed since she'd worked her parents' farm, and with the help of creams and pumice, her hands had smoothed and the calluses vanished. Though Lance's hands were gentle, they lacked the comforting strength she'd always felt in her father's hands, and sought in men who courted her.

Lily looked at Chester's sun-browned hands cupped around his beer mug. As Lance held her right hand, she took Chester's hand with her left.

"Here now, why don't you set your mind on me, honey," Lance said. "I'm the one wants to marry you. I knew it soon as I laid eyes on you. I figure Chester's got something on his mind, alright. It's not marriage."

Chester reddened. "You oughtn't talk thataway afore Lily."

Lance gazed at his father's back as Jeff Prescott leaned on the bar and sipped beer. "Father hasn't seen us," said Lance. "Hopefully he won't."

"Why not?" said Lily, rubbing her fingers around Chester's. Neither soft or work roughened, his hand was stronger than Lance's, though not as strong as she liked. Marshal Dillon had big hands; Lily didn't need to hold them to know their strength.

"Father hates it when I court saloon women," said Lance. "He's mighty prideful."

"Could he convince you not to marry me if I accepted you?" said Lily.

"He won't take away my inheritance," said Lance. "I'm his only son, and he has no daughters. And he wants Prescott Properties and the family line to survive. That means a lot to him. He owns millions in land, businesses, mines, you name it. Everything goes to me when he dies."

Lance pressed Lily's hand, and she let go of Chester's hand to put her other hand over Lance's. She wanted a rich man, and he was wealthy beyond imagining. Chester looked too poor to provide for a wife.

"I don't want you near Father, though," Lance said to Lily. "He hasn't any use for women, even society ladies. I suppose that's why he didn't remarry after my mother died. I don't remember her, but I suspect a broken heart weakened her too much to live when she got sick. Father's cold around women. I'm not at all like him. I just want to give my heart to the woman I love, long as I live."

Lance's eyes were luminously dark, earnest and craving. Lily gripped his hands and kissed him with all the tenderness she could muster.

Chester ruefully looked on. "I'm in the way . . . here," he said. "I'll go back to the bar, maybe." He had an urge to stand by Kitty.

"Oh, Chester. No," said Lily, taking his hand again. "I like your company, too. I have no friends in Dodge, except Kitty's sort of a friend. You're my friend, Chester, aren't you?"

"Lance might have somethin' to say 'bout it," said Chester.

"Makes no never mind to me," said Lance. "Long as you're my friend, too, Chester."

" _Oh."_ Chester studied a cricket on the floor. _"Well._ Then . . . I think I'll have, I'll have another beer. At the bar." Chester stood, raised his empty mug, and went to Kitty.

"Oh, dear," said Lily. "I'm afraid we made him feel awkward."

"We didn't mean to," said Lance. "He's a nice fellow, but I do want to talk just you and me."

The marshal and Doc flanked Kitty at the bar. " 'Scuse me, Doc," said Chester, sliding in between Doc and Kitty.

"Well, go on and take the best spot in the room," said Doc.

"You been standin' by Miss Kitty quite a spell, now, Doc," said Chester. "It's my turn." He leaned on the bar and contemplated his empty mug.

"Didn't go well, Chester?" said Kitty, patting his back.

"She wants to be my friend," said Chester. "So does he."

"Nothin' to mope about, when a beautiful woman wants to be your friend," said Doc. "She didn't ask me to be her friend."

"You're lucky, Chester," said Matt. "Lily will trouble young Prescott's life instead of yours."

"Matt," said Kitty. "I'll buy you another beer, Chester."

"Thank you, Miss Kitty," said Chester. "I could use one."

"I want to travel with my wife," Lance said to Lily. "Move from place to place. To California, and the islands and Europe. I'll hire solicitors to run the businesses when Father gets old, and after he dies. I don't like business; I've no head for it. Father made me study it at New York University, and I flunked out first year on purpose."

"Oh, I'd love to travel the world with the man I love," Lily said wistfully.

Jeff Prescott turned and leaned back against the bar, watching the men and gals. He stiffened when he saw his son with Lily, their fingers intertwined. Jeff headed for their table.

"Prescott's seen them," said Matt. He took a big swallow of beer, set his mug down, and trailed Jeff. Chester likewise gulped beer, put his mug on the bar, and followed the marshal.

"Good heavens," said Lance. "Father's coming." Lance squeezed Lily's hands. "He can get fierce," said Lance. "I saw him slap one of our maids once when he thought I wasn't looking." Lily gasped and pulled one of her hands away from Lance, covering her mouth.

"Don't worry, honey," said Lance. "I won't let him hurt you." He and Lily rose from their chairs, and Lance put his arm around her as he faced his father.

"What do you think you're doing with this gal, Lance?" said Jeff Prescott.

"This is Lily Roslyn, Father," said Lance. "I'm courting her with the intention of marriage."

"You young fool," said Jeff. "Women like her see men for what they can get from 'em. She wants your money and respectability."

"There's nothing wrong with that, Mr. Prescott," said Lily. "I do want wealth and position."

"What'd I tell you," Jeff said to his son.

"But I also have a lot of love to give a man," said Lily. "And your son is easy to love."

"You mean he's easy to know in the carnal way," said Jeff. His hard mouth curled in disdain. "Your breed has no conception of love.'

"And neither do you," Lance said to his father. "At least not for women. Stop looking at Lily that way. She's a beautiful woman, not dirt under your boots."

Jeff stepped close to Lily, and Matt stepped close to Jeff. "You stay away from my son, understand?" Jeff said to Lily, his voice biting.

"Stop it, Father," said Lance. "You'll scare her."

"I mean to scare her," said Jeff.

"I'm not afraid of you," said Lily, her face flushed and her eyes blazing. She was afraid. Her heart pounded so she could scarcely breathe, making her light-headed. She also felt like she could beat Jeff Prescott with her bare hands and leave him bleeding on the floor.

One side of Jeff's mouth curved in a scornful grin, and his eyes wandered with slow deliberation over Lily's body. Her hand itched to slap him.

" _Don't look at her like that,"_ said Lance. "I'll hit you right here."

"You'd hit your own father on account of some cheap woman?" said Jeff.

"I'm not _cheap,_ " said Lily. "I work here because I need the job. I'm not _that_ kind of woman."

"It doesn't matter. Any woman that'd take a job here is cheap. Now get your dirty hands off my son and your sweet hind end away from this table," Jeff ordered menacingly.

" _Confounded, Father,"_ said Lance. _"I'm gonna—"_

Matt collared Jeff, jerked him away from Lily, and backhanded him, hard enough to sting without knocking him down. "Go home, Prescott," said the marshal.

"I will not," said Jeff. "At least not without my son. You've no right to order me, Marshal."

"You threaten a woman in this town, that gives me a right," said the marshal. Now go home."

"I'll go if Lance comes with me," said Jeff.

"Why don't you go on with him, Lance," said Matt.

" _No_ ," said Lance. "He's a beast; he frightened Lily. I won't leave her here with no man to comfort her except these dregs who want to take advantage of her."

"You call me a beast?" said Jeff. "Your own father?"

"I need to not see your face awhile, Father, or I'll hit you," said Lance. "I'm not going home yet. I'll stay at Dodge House a spell."

"Alright," said Jeff. "But at least leave the Long Branch with me. Walk home with me to pack your bag. Come away from this gal; she's no good for you."

"No, Father," said Lance, his arm around Lily. "I won't walk with you or talk things out, not so long as you speak to Lily that way."

"You see what you've done," Jeff said to Lily, his voice gravelly with fury. "You tore a rift between me and my son, and I won't stand for it." He grabbed Lily's arm and yanked her away from Lance.

Matt punched Jeff, and he fell on his back. The saloon went quiet. Lily held her arm, which throbbed where Prescott grabbed her. Her shoulder hurt. She felt Chester's hands on her arms, his touch gentle as he leaned over her.

"Alright, Lily?" said Matt.

"I think so," she said, gazing up into the marshal's eyes. "I'll have a bruise.

"Will you walk out with me, Chester? I need some air," said Lily.

"Night's warm," said Chester soothingly. "We'll set a bit. You jest take it easy, Lily. It'll work out.

"You best tend yer pa," Chester said to Lance.

Doc appeared at Lily's side. "Alright, Lily?" he said. "Need me to take a look at your arm?"

"I'll be fine, Doc, thanks," said Lily. "I just need some air. I'm going out to sit with Chester."

"Well, I'll come with you; how's that?" said Doc. "I could use some air myself."

"Lance, help your pa up and get 'im home," said the marshal.

"Come on, Father," said Lance. He bent over Jeff, put his arms around his father, and pulled. "Try harder to get up," said Lance, tugging. "You're bigger than me." Jeff staggered to his feet, and Lance slung his father's arm around the son's shoulder.

"You're my son," Jeff mumbled. "Fine and sweet like your sainted mother, though you're a boy. I won't let that gal ruin you."

"I never heard you speak of my mother like that," said Lance, supporting his father toward the batwings. "I always thought you hated her, on account of you're so cold and distant with women."

Jeff shrugged off his son's arm and paused before the batwings, tidying his suit. Matt waited a few steps behind them. " _My_ mother was cold and distant," said Jeff, smoothing his hair. "But I loved your mother, son. Her death soured me more on other women."

They pushed through the batwings, trailed by the marshal. Down the walk from the Long Branch, Lily sat between Chester and Doc. Jeff stopped by the bench.

"Leave Lily alone, Father," said Lance.

"You best remember what I said in there, young woman," said Jeff to Lily. "I meant every word. Stay away from my son."

Matt pushed Jeff. "Get movin', Prescott."

"I'll see you tomorrow at the Long Branch, Lily," said Lance. Lily couldn't summon the courage to say goodnight with Jeff scowling at her. Her arm still hurt where he'd grabbed it. Lance walked away with his father, and Matt headed back to the Long Branch.

Lily watched the marshal move off, thinking how easily he'd protected her from Jeff. Lance was fine-looking and rich and she liked him, but she despised his father. She wished Jeff would catch fever and die, or be killed by a stray bullet. Even if Jeff died, though, Lance could never make Lily feel safe as Marshal Dillon did. When she kissed Lance, she'd sensed a yearning in him, like that of a lost child.

Lily felt keenly aware of Chester sitting quietly beside her. Some four inches taller than Lance, Chester seemed not to need Lily at all, yet he was helpful and obliging, and had a settled way about him that young Prescott lacked.

Doc sat comfortably at Lily's other side. Much older than herself, he'd admired her without sparking. Even so, an unmarried doctor of any age made an eligible suitor.

Inside the Long Branch, Matt and Kitty sat at a table. "Jeff Prescott should be ashamed, picking on a girl like Lily," said Kitty. "He's a hard nasty man. I don't know why he bothers comin' here, since he hates women. He oughta do his drinkin' in that fancy house of his."

"Well, Prescott did love his wife, Kitty," said Matt. "I heard him tell the boy so."

Kitty frowned at the marshal. "Why do you keep calling Lance a boy," she said. "To paint Lily as a gold digger, I suppose, even though she's younger and just a farm girl."

"Kitty, I'm not painting Lily as anything," said Matt. "But I do understand Jeff Prescott's position. He's prominent in business, not just in Dodge, but across the country and in Europe. Makes sense he'd want Lance to marry befitting his station."

"I don't care what Jeff Prescott wants," said Kitty. "And you shouldn't, either, Matt. I only care what happens to Lily."

"I don't like Prescott, believe me," said Matt. "But you have to admit Lily's somewhat of a player. Chester sparks her cuz she's pretty, but I don't see him fallin' for her, she's too young for Doc, and I'm not interested. Lance on the other hand is young and moony enough to get caught in her trap."

"Lily has no trap," said Kitty. "She's just a girl lookin' for a good match. Please be nice to her, Matt. She needs friends here."

"I have no problem bein' nice to a pretty young woman," said Matt. "And I'll look out for Lily long as Prescott's son courts her."

"You think Jeff'll try to hurt her, Matt?"

"I don't know, Kitty," said the marshal. "I'll do my best not to give him a chance to hurt her."

Jeff spent most of his days on business trips, riding in his carriage with his personal driver. He hadn't the time or inclination to track his son's movements.

Lance squired Lily around on her days off, and passed nights with her at the Long Branch. She realized Doc had no intention of courting her, and Chester soon stopped his attentions, seeing Lance as her special beau. As for Marshal Dillon, he wasn't Kitty's husband, which made him fair game. He was so self-assured and fond of Kitty, Lily had no notion how to kindle his interest other than looking intently into his eyes, which just seemed to amuse him.

The day Jeff saw Lance walking Front Street with Lily, Matt rode to a farm to break up a fight between a young sodbuster and his wife, both under twenty years of age. With no children to distract them, they bickered loudly and often and hit each other, prompting their neighbors to send for the marshal.

Walking to the livery to go riding, Lance and Lily were so immersed in their own company, they didn't see Jeff striding toward them. Passing by the marshal's office, they greeted Chester sitting outside, and nearly collided with the older Prescott.

" _Mercy,"_ Lily gasped, touching her palm to her chest.

"Father," said Lance. "What are you doing out here." Chester stood up.

"You'd better not bother me, Mr. Prescott," said Lily. "Or I'll scream for Marshal Dillon to come out."

"Mr. Dillon rode to the Laramie farm," said Chester. "I won't let Prescott hurt you none, Lily." Chester glowered at Jeff, who stared fiercely at Lily.

"Keep out of this, Chester," said Jeff. "It's not your business."

"Don't you even think 'bout layin' a finger on Lily," Chester warned.

"Why aren't you out riding to a business meeting in that ridiculous black carriage, Father," said Lance. "It's a wonder folks don't mistake you for the undertaker, for all that coach looks like a hearse. I sure wouldn't be caught dead in it. Normal people take the stage."

"That isn't funny, Lance," said Jeff. "Stop disrespecting me on account of this gal."

"Why should I," said Lance. "You don't respect Lily."

"Women like her deserve no respect," said Jeff. "I told you to stay away from my son," he said to Lily.

"Leave her alone, Father," said Lance. "We've been keeping company since that first night at the Long Branch, and I still intend to marry Lily if she'll have me."

Jeff's face twisted in a silent snarl, and he slapped Lily hard, moving too fast for Chester or Lance to stop him. Lance's fingers balled into a fist to hit his father, but Chester got to him first, backhanding him. He reeled, keeping his footing.

Lily clutched her cheek, her eyes burning rage at Jeff. _"You . . . rotten . . . swill,"_ she said. Her voice, normally light and melodious, sounded sonorous. Chester and Lance gaped at her, and even Jeff looked shocked. Uttering a screech to put more strength into it, Lily slapped Jeff back. "I wish I had an iron mallet," said Lily. "I'd beat you to death right here."

" _Lily,"_ Lance whispered.

"See what sort of creature she is, son?" said Jeff. "She's like a witch."

"Shut up, Father," said Lance. "You started this. You made her mad."

"You go ahead on, Prescott," said Chester to Jeff. "You lay a hand on Lily again and I'll throw you in jail."

"You have no authority to jail me," said Jeff, his eyes fixed piercingly on Lily. "You're no deputy."

Chester moved in front of Lily, blocking Jeff's view of her, and bumped against him, forcing him to step back. "I said move on," said Chester.

"How dare you give me orders," said Jeff. "Get out of the way."

"Just walk around him in the street and get out of here, Father," said Lance. "Lily's staying right by my side. You try to hit her again, you'll be fighting Chester _and_ me."

Jeff moved into the street. "You think you've sunk your claws into my son, but you're mistaken," he growled at Lily. "You better leave town if you know what's good for you, gal. And I mean _now._ Don't take your time about it, or you'll be sorrier than you've ever been in your life."

" _Get away from her, Father!"_ Lance shouted.

"I ain't gonna tell you again; now _go_ ," said Chester, following Jeff into the street.

"You try to jail me, and I'll knock you out, Chester," said Jeff.

"Yeah, well, we'll see about that," said Chester. "I'm minded to fight you right now, you don't git. You oughter be ashamed, hittin' a woman."

"I got no fight with you," said Jeff. He hitched his pants and tugged his vest, squared his shoulders and jerked his jaw at Chester.

"No, you'd ruther fight a woman," said Chester.

"Stop wasting my time," said Jeff. "Dunderhead." He rubbed his face where Lily had slapped him, a cunning look replacing the contempt in his hard eyes.

"You pack quite a wallop in that soft little hand, don't you," Jeff said to Lily. "Fiery gal like you'll please a man one way, anyhow. Nothing to do with marriage in your case."

"I've never hit you in my life, Father," said Lance, "but if you don't—"

"Don't try it, Lance," said his father. "I won't muck up my day tussling with you. I've things to do, but if I wanted to stand in this spot 'til nightfall, I would. I'm bigger than you, and I'll be stronger than you a long time to come. Remember that.

"As for you, gal," Jeff said, his eyes boring into Lily's, "I warned you, and you didn't listen." He stalked away.

As Lily was a woman, Lance and Chester figured she needed comforting. Though she welcomed their attentions, she felt no fear or hurt, only an invigorating agitation that warmed her all over. Lance encircled her in his arms and stroked her hair, while Chester patted her back.

"You're both so kind," said Lily. She put her hands on Lance's shoulders. "Lance," she said, "I don't want to harm Jeff Prescott as he is your father, and . . . I don't like hurting people. But when he grabbed my arm at the Long Branch, and just now when he slapped me, and those horrid things he said—"

"Oh, honey, I'm no end sorry," Lance said, shaking his head.

"No, listen," said Lily, her round eyes wide. She raised her hands before his face. "I could hurt your father terribly with just my two hands, Lance," she said. "Without you or Chester or Marshal Dillon to protect me. I could kill Jeff Prescott. Just with these." Her hands formed fists. Lance's mouth opened a little and he stared at her, speechless.

"My goodness," said Chester in a hushed tone, his hand falling from Lily's back. His hand was warm and gentle, and she wished he'd pat her again. He seemed to her more chivalrous than Lance.

Lance's hands closed around her fists, and he kissed her knuckles. "You talk like a wildcat when you're riled," he murmured. "You're so wonderfully spirited. Darling Lily. Let's not allow Father's meanness to keep us from our riding trip," said Lance. "Please, Lily."

"I never let anyone stop me from anything I want to do," said Lily. "And I want to go riding with you."

Lance beamed at her, his soft dark eyes shining, and she thought him rather too pretty at the moment. He had finer features than Marshal Dillon or Chester. The marshal and his friend weren't pretty, and she found their faces pleasing no matter what feeling was behind them.

Lily turned to Chester, who gazed with a patient, distant look over her and Lance's heads. Now that she was safe a spell from Jeff, and had stopped ranting about beating and killing him, Chester seemed to have lost interest in her. "Chester," said Lily, a bit forlornly.

He looked at her and blushed. Lily took his hand. "Thank you for rescuing me," she said.

Chester averted his eyes and tried to pull back his hand. Lily tightened her hold. "T'weren't nothin'," he said. He looked at Lance. "Not meanin' ta be unmannerly, but yer paw sure 'nough needs to mend his ways respectin' women," said Chester.

"I know, Chester," said Lance. "I can't change him. He doesn't pay me any mind."

Lily touched her hand to the back of Chester's head and kissed him. "Waal, gracious," he said. "I should maybe rescue you ha _bi_ tual."

Lance looked wounded. "I thought _I_ was your fella, Lily," he said.

"I bought her a big topaz ring to match her eyes and hair," Lance said to Chester. "She'll accept it from me. Soon as she sets her mind to have me."

"She hasn't," said Chester, smiling at Lily. "Set her mind."

"Well, she _will_ ," said Lance.

"Oh, don't get het up, Lance," said Lily, taking his arm. "Let's get our horses from Mr. Grimmick's."

As they moved down the walk, Jeff Prescott peered around the corner from a passage between two buildings and watched Lily's retreating form. She wore a hip-length jacket, and riding pants fitted to her legs and backside.

Jeff figured Lily was the kind of gal that needed breaking, and as Lance's father, he bore the responsibility of subduing her body and crushing her spirit for the good of his son. Jeff would bide his time until he caught her alone, and when he was through taking her, she'd never go near his son again.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

"Pa says be sure and apologize, sending for you so early in the day, Marshal," said young Andy, "but Hec and Allie Laramie commenced to fightin' fearsome come sunup. Their hollerin' woke us, and their farm's a long stone's throw distant from our'n at least."

"That's alright, Andy," said Matt, strapping on his gunbelt. "I just hope I can get there before they hurt each other. I'm afraid one or both of 'em will end up dead, they don't start actin' more Christian like."

"Well, my goodness, Mr. Dillon; that'd be a _terrible_ shame," said Chester. "Why, the Laramies are jest younguns. Hec ain't twenty-one yet, and lil Allie's but sixteen, same as young Andy here. T'would be a terrible shame, is all."

Chester's voice quavered, his drawl a little slurred. He'd awakened from a sound sleep when Andy charged into the marshal's office as Matt worked before breakfast on a report about the torching of the Hard Day Saloon by the Dodge Ladies' Temperance Union. Chester sat clad in his union suit on the bed, his hair mussed in soft spikes, his mouth turned down and his eyes shimmery.

Matt glanced at his friend. "What's wrong, Chester," said the marshal, checking his gun chambers.

"Oh, nothin'." Chester sniffled, and a single tear dripped from his eye, making a wet spot on the leg of his union suit. "Young husband, wife hittin' like ta kill one 'nother. Jeff Prescott hatin' so bad on poor Lily, and her a woman . . . . She don't even love his son like he does her. Cain't make out one to the next minute who she's sweet on."

Matt's fingers paused in twirling the cylinder, and he gave Chester a searching look. "So _that's_ it," he said.

Chester swiped his hand under his nose. "Well, times a body cain't help feelin'," he said. "When it comes to a woman particular."

Matt put on his hat. "Chester, I don't think Lily means any man harm," said the marshal. "She's hardly more than a youngun. But she doesn't know who or what she wants where men are concerned. You best forget courtin' her, or you could bring a heap of misery on your head."

Matt was only mildly concerned. Chester was tendersome, enough to shed a tear in front of young Andy without shame. "Get some more rest," Matt said to Chester, and left with the boy. Chester yawned, lay down and covered himself with the blanket, and went back to sleep.

As Matt mounted Buck to return to Dodge after calming the young Laramies, Lance sat on a creek bank fishing with Lily. He heard a rustling in the willows and cottonwoods lining the creek. He and Lily planned to cook fish for their picnic lunch, but the fish weren't biting, and Lance hadn't seen a one in the stream all morning. He thought fire-roasted rabbit would go well with their hardboiled eggs, johnnycake and molasses.

"Where're you going?" said Lily, as Lance laid down his fishing pole and stood up.

"Thought I heard a jackrabbit in the trees yonder," said Lance. "We haven't had any luck with the fish, and I'll be powerful hungry by lunchtime. P'raps I could catch a rabbit."

"You don't have a gun," said Lily.

"I used to catch 'em barehanded as a youngun," said Lance. "I think I still could."

Lily smiled up at him from her seat in the grass. "Oh, Lance," she said. "You _are_ sweet. If I wasn't so comfortable sitting here, I'd stand up and kiss you." He dropped to his knees beside her and took her in his arms.

"My fishing pole," said Lily.

"Put it down," he said, and kissed her as she held the pole.

"Not now, darling," she said. "Go catch your rabbit." Lance kissed her again. "Run along and play, or I'll swat you with this pole," said Lily. "I want to think."

Lance sat back on his heels and looked at her, his gentle eyes guarded. She'd talked to him like he was a little boy instead of a lover, and he didn't like it. He wondered if she meant it about hitting him with the pole, her lighthearted tone no matter. Lance thought of how she'd threatened and slapped his father. Father deserved that and worse, of course. He'd slapped Lily first. Still, Lance felt rather afraid of her, which made him want her even more.

Lily turned to meet his eyes with her bold intense gaze. "Don't be hurt," she said. "You shock so easily, Lance."

"I don't, either," he said. "That's not shock; that's lust."

Lily laughed. "Maybe after lunch," she said. "No promises."

Lance smiled, then rose and walked a ways into the wood, catching no glimpse of a rabbit. He was turning to go back to Lily, when a big muscled arm clamped his shoulders from behind, and a man slapped a sodden wad of cloth over his nose and mouth.

Lance tasted something sweet, then the pungent odor of chloroform filled his nose and head as he struggled. He was unconscious in seconds, and the man lowered him to the ground.

"Alright, get out of here," Jeff Prescott said in a low tone to the man. "And don't let her see you ride off."

Jeff walked through the wood to where Lily sat with her fishing pole on the creek bank. "Back already?" she said, not looking at him.

"Hello, Lily," said Jeff.

She startled and looked up, wide-eyed, then scrambled to her feet, gripping the pole in both hands. "Where's Lance?" she said breathlessly, her heart hammering.

"I had a fellow put him to sleep a few hours back there in the trees," said Jeff. "He's not hurt." Lance didn't wear a gun, but his father did. Jeff unbuckled his gunbelt and tossed it a few feet away in the grass.

He stepped closer to Lily and she backed away, brandishing the pole. "Come any closer and I'll swing the hook at your face," she said.

Jeff lunged forward, snatched the pole from her, threw it down, and slapped her. "You'll never come near my son again when I get through with you," he said. He grabbed Lily's shoulders, pulled her against him, and kissed her hard.

She started flailing and he pushed her down, then straddled her and fumbled at his belt buckle while he held her down with his other hand. Lily rammed her knee into him as hard as she could, and he curled up, rolling off her.

Jeff's hat fell off as he writhed in the grass. _"You filthy tramp,"_ he spat, his voice choked with pain.

Lily ran to where his gunbelt lay, pulled the gun from the holster, and aimed it at Jeff. He pushed himself to his hands and knees and looked up at her, his eyes dimmed with pain. Though his eyes were hard and shrewd, and Lance's soft and sensitive, the color and shape were the same, framed by the same long lashes, and the features alike. Lily felt a twinge of pity and guilt, but she kept Jeff's gun pointed at him.

"You sorry? For what you did?" Jeff said faintly, blinking at her. Lily swallowed hard. "Well, sure you are," said Jeff. "You're cheap, but you're a woman. Beautiful gal like you _would_ be sorry, doing such a vile thing to a man." Jeff climbed unsteadily to his feet. "You could never use my gun on me," he said.

"Don't come any closer," Lily said, raising the revolver. "You go get Lance and put him in the buggy. Your own son, Mr. Prescott. Hiring some brute to knock him out, and leaving him on the damp ground so you can have your way with his girl. Suppose he catches pneumonia? He takes sick easy; he told me."

Jeff snorted. "Lance is too blamed soft," he said. "Been that way all his life. Never mind him anyway; I'll see to 'im when the time comes."

Jeff advanced on Lily. "Give me my gun," he demanded, holding out his hand. "You and I aren't through, here, Lily Roslyn. You're vicious, but that won't stop me. I'll teach you to stay away from my son, irregardless."

When she thought about it afterward, Lily knew her love for Lance stayed her finger on the trigger, and in that instant, she decided to marry him.

" _You fool!"_ Lily screamed at Jeff. She swung the gun with all her strength and hit his hand, as a blow to the head could kill him. He grabbed his hand, hunching over, and she swung the gun repeatedly, hitting his back across the shoulders. Jeff stumbled around, clutching his hand as he tried to escape her.

" _Don't you ever try to hurt me again!"_ Lily shrieked. She kicked his knee and he fell. She raised Jeff's gun in both hands high over her head, screeching as she brought it down on his back over and over again, hitting his ribs. Her bonnet flew off, and her long chestnut tresses fell loose from their pins.

She didn't hear Matt ride up. Heading back to Dodge after leaving the young Laramies in a remorseful embrace, he heard a woman screaming, and sighted Lily beating Jeff Prescott with a gun, her skirts and abundant wavy hair blowing in the breeze. Prescott lay prone on the ground.

Matt dismounted, ran to her, wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off her feet, moving away from Jeff. He took the gun from her, shifting her to his left arm, and held her round her slender waist while he stuck the gun in his belt. _"Lily,"_ said the marshal. "What're you _doing_."

Matt set her on her feet. Her pretty face was congested, her russet eyes wild. "Stay there," Matt said.

He crouched beside Jeff and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Jeff," said Matt.

"She tried to kill me," Jeff groaned, his voice muffled in the grass. "She's a raving madwoman."

"I could've shot you," said Lily. "But I love Lance, so I didn't."

Matt turned Jeff on his back, and he groaned again. "I think she broke a rib," he said.

"What's this all about, Lily," said Matt.

"He tried to attack me, Marshal," said Lily. "He hired a man to . . . he said he had a man put Lance to sleep in the wood there. Then Mr. Prescott tried to attack me."

"I won't deny it," said Jeff from the ground, his flinty eyes looking up at Matt. "It's the only way I could think of to keep her away from my son."

Matt looked at Lily. "Lily, did he . . . did he . . . ."

"No, Marshal," said Lily. "Not even close. I didn't let him hurt me at all, as you see."

"What did you do to your son, Prescott," said Matt.

"Chloroform," said Jeff. "He's not hurt. He'll sleep awhile longer, though."

"Will you put Mr. Prescott in jail, Marshal?" said Lily. "Just until Lance and I marry and go far away from Dodge, where his father can't find us. I don't want to bring charges for a trial. I know Lance will agree with me."

Jeff supported himself on his elbows, wincing. "You dirty harlot," he said. "You're the one should go to jail. You almost pistol-whipped me to death."

"That's enough, Prescott," Matt ordered. "Say anything like that again, I'll bloody your lip."

"You're heartless, Marshal," said Jeff. "My rib's broken and I ache all over on account of her. She kneed me, and she did some damage; I can tell. You're a man. How can you take her side."

"I'm not a harlot," said Lily. "I've never done it for money, and I never will."

"I'm arresting you, Prescott," said Matt. "Lily beat you in self-defense. Way I see it, she had no choice. I'll have Doc take a look at you in jail." Matt helped Jeff to stand.

"He has to ride his horse, Marshal," said Lily. "I'll ride with Lance in the buggy."

"Alright," said Matt. "Can you walk?" he said to Jeff.

Jeff nodded, hugging his ribs. "Show me where Lance is," said Matt. "Wait in the buggy, Lily."

Jeff moved on unsteady boots into the wood, and led the marshal to where Lance lay on his back in the dirt. Matt gave Jeff a disgusted look, then bent down and picked Lance up. "Alright, get movin', Prescott," the marshal said to Jeff.

Lily had packed the picnic basket and fishing poles in the buggy, and shaken out the blanket. She sat waiting with the blanket on her lap, holding the reins. Matt slid Lance on the seat beside her, and she draped the blanket over him, settled his head on her shoulder, put her right arm around him and held the reins with her left.

She met Jeff's eyes. His expression was sour, his mouth twisted and tight. His features softened as he looked at his son.

"I'll take care of him," Lily said.

"You've won," said Jeff, his voice gruff and bitter as he gazed at Lance. "You'll be a rich woman all your days, thanks to me. He's my only son. I won't cut him off from his inheritance, even if I never see him again when you steal him away from his home. He'll need some millions more before he leaves Dodge, with you leeching off him. I'll give him a check."

"I want you to see him again," said Lily. "When I can trust you not to hurt me anymore or try to separate us. If we have a child . . . perhaps . . . ."

" _Your_ child?" Jeff said scornfully. He ran his hand over Lance's hair, then moved to his horse. He put his boot in the stirrup and started to mount, then moaned and leaned his head on his horse's neck. "I'm too sore to mount up," he said into the horse's mane. "My side's afire from the rib she busted. That gal's the devil incarnate."

Matt helped Jeff into the saddle. "You had it comin'," said the marshal. "Doc'll fix you up when we get to the jail."

Lily clucked to the horses, setting them off at a trot, and Jeff sat motionless in the saddle, watching the buggy roll away.

"Jeff," said Matt. Prescott stirred, and tapped his heels to his horse's sides. Matt followed on Buck.

Lily drove the buggy to the staircase leading to Doc's office. She waited while Matt locked Jeff in jail, then the marshal walked to Doc's and carried Lance up the stairs. Doc listened to Lance's heart and lungs and pried open his eyelids. "His breathing's a little rattly," said Doc. "Wet. He might have a bit of a cough when he wakes up. Nothing serious. He'll be good as new with a little bedrest and chicken soup."

"Oh, Lance won't stay abed, Doc," said Lily. "He'll want to take me away on the train, soon as we pay the parson a visit so he can marry us." She thought a moment. "And after Lance's father writes him a check," she added. "I'm accepting Lance's marriage proposal when he wakes. We'll leave on the three-thirty tomorrow at latest."

"That so," said Doc. "Where're you two goin'?"

"A far ways from Dodge," said Lily. "To escape from Mr. Prescott. We'll decide where after we leave."

"Well, congratulations." Doc covered Lance with a blanket as he lay on Doc's lounge, and put a chair close to the headrest. "Now, you sit there," Doc said to Lily, "so he sees your pretty face on waking, and he won't get too distressed. He won't know where he is at first, or what happened to him. I'm going to the jail to tend his father."

Doc wrapped Jeff's ribs in the jail cell and dosed him with laudanum. "I gave him a double dose," Doc said to Matt. "Put 'im to sleep; what he needs right now. He's in very low spirits."

Doc handed the bottle to Chester. "Give him a spoon when he's in pain," said Doc. Doc gave Chester a probing look. Quiet and listless, Chester sat with unfocused eyes on the bed in the marshal's office and leaned back against the wall. Doc took the bottle of laudanum back and put it on the table. "What's the matter, Chester?" said Doc.

"Miss Lily Roslyn is the matter with Chester," said Matt.

"Miss Lily Roslyn," said Doc.

Matt sat on the end of the bed and gave Chester's shoulder a pat. "Alright, Chester," said the marshal. "She finally made up her mind to marry Lance. She's gonna tell 'im soon as he wakes outa the chloroform. So you can quit frettin' over her. She and Lance are leaving Dodge."

Chester turned woeful eyes on Matt. "Tain't Lily's fault, Mr. Dillon," said Chester. "I wouldn't think on blamin' her, for heaven sakes; she's jest a young girl what wants a husband."

"I prescribe Kitty for you, Chester," said Doc.

"Miss Kitty?" Chester said vaguely.

"That's right," said Doc. "Kitty's company and supper. How about it, Matt."

"Sounds good to me," said Matt.

"Not to worry about Prescott in there," said Doc, gesturing toward the jail cells. "He needs sleep more than food at the moment."

Kitty stood at the end of the bar when Matt and Doc walked through the batwings with Chester straggling behind, hands in his pockets.

At once heartened and warmed, Kitty smiled as Matt approached. Nights were growing cold, the sun setting earlier at the start of harvest season. Kitty felt at times chilled in the saloon, and somewhat gloomy. As twilight gathered, she imagined the sun shining inside the Long Branch when she saw the marshal.

"Hello, Kitty," said Matt, tipping his hat and returning her smile.

"Matt," said Kitty. The warmth surged through her, making her heady. She wanted to reach up, cup her hands around his head, and pull his face down for a kiss, but she didn't, of course, knowing she'd embarrass him. Kitty wished Matt wouldn't always act like such a proper beau. If he was her beau. Maybe he was just a dear friend who shared her bed now and then. He never made it clear, which could be maddening.

"You riled?" said Matt.

"What?" said Kitty. "Oh, _no;_ I'm sorry, Matt." She touched his arm. I was just thinking about something," she said.

"I hope it wasn't about me," said Matt. Kitty put her arms around him, then stepped back before he could pull away from her.

"Hello, Doc," said Kitty.

"Kitty," said Doc.

"What's wrong with Chester," she said. "Come on over here by me, Chester."

"I'm tolerable, Miss Kitty," said Chester, moving to her side. "It's all some too much. Lily and the Prescotts, and the young Laramies and all. My head ain't quite wrappin' round it like it should." Kitty put her arm around him.

"Chester needs supper," said Doc. "You hungry, Kitty?"

"I'm starvin'," said Kitty. "It's been so busy with the cattle drives comin' through, I didn't take time for lunch."

"Wanna come with us to Delmonico's?" said Matt. "We'll tell you all about what happened with Lily over dinner."

"I can't wait," said Kitty, taking Matt's arm.

"Make sure you talk to Chester, Kitty," said Doc, as they moved to the batwings. "He needs food, and you talkin' to 'im."

"Aw, now, Doc," said Chester. "Don't trouble yourself over me, Miss Kitty. Whatever 'twas ailed me is a'ready cured."

"I think he's himself again, Doc," said Matt, as they walked Front Street to Delmonico's.

"I feel like maself," said Chester. "You're better'n any tonic, Miss Kitty."

"Why, _thank_ you, Chester," said Kitty. Holding Matt's arm, she took Chester's arm on her other side and walked between them.

"What'd I tell ya," said Doc. "Supper and Kitty."

Epilogue

After the parson married Lance and Lily, Jefferson Prescott sent for his son, and wrote him a check for ten million dollars. "Wherever you deposit this," Jeff instructed as he sat on the bunk in the jail cell, "the bank will wire me to ensure it's legitimate. Have them telegraph Dodge City. I'll always stay here, Lance, if you need me. If I'm away on business, I'll be back."

"Of course, Father," said Lance, subduing his impatience. He wanted to be off with Lily.

"Listen to me, Lance," Jeff ordered. "That woman hooked you, and she'll own you the rest of your life. She beat me, the wildcat. Literally as well as figuratively. Stop fidgeting and listen, Lance. You could at least spend a few minutes with me after all you put me through with that gal."

"Yes, Father," said Lance. "Sorry."

"No, you're not sorry," said Jeff. "If you were, you wouldn't marry a saloon woman. Never mind," he said, as Lance opened his mouth to object. "It's done," said Jeff, "and you won't undo it. I have a lot of time to think, lying in this cell. I'm strong and youthful and in good health, and one of the richest men in the country. I have a lot of good to do in this world, Lance, and I don't intend to spend it moping any longer on account of your foolishness.

"I'll likely live a long time," Jeff went on. "Maybe even longer than you. You're half-dead now from the sound of that cough, and fixing to run about traveling randomly with that woman, with your fool self. You probably have consumption."

"Doc said it's a just a cold, Father," said Lance. "I was fine before you paid that man to chloroform me, and you left me on the damp ground while you tried to attack Lily."

"I did what I had to do," said Jeff. "It came to nothing anyway, so stop carping about it. I'm trying to remind you that everything I have goes to you, if you outlive me. My solicitors will find you when I die. And if you die before I do, all my money and property goes to your children."

"Children," Lance echoed softly, looking numb.

"Naturally," said his father. "That gal is beautiful, if she is ill-bred. You won't be working, or doing anything else with your life except—"

"Father, _please_ ," Lance implored.

"Alright, go on, then." Jeff rose slowly from the bunk, mindful of his broken rib.

Lance hugged Jeff. "Goodbye, Father. I hope I'll see you again."

Jeff returned the embrace, patting his son's back. "Alright, alright," said Jeff. "Don't get blubbery, Lance."

Matt waited five days after Lance and Lily departed on the train before releasing Jeff from jail, so the older Prescott would not be tempted to track them down.

The young Laramies divorced when Allie caught Hec in their bed with the hired woman, who at forty was twenty years older than Hec. Hec accused sixteen-year-old Allie of being more worn out than the hired woman, and Allie shot her husband. Hec survived, refused to bring charges against Allie, and moved back East to his parents' farm, leaving the hired woman behind, while Allie journeyed to San Francisco and found work as a dance hall and saloon gal.

Lily wrote to Kitty, complaining she and her husband couldn't travel as they wished, as Lance was sick from many ailments more often than not. Lily doubted he could give her children. "We come together most every night when Lance is not ill," Lily wrote. "Yet I've never once been with child."

"Lily said Lance is goin' tender in the head," said Kitty to Matt and Doc, as the three of them drank coffee at the table in the marshal's office.

"You mean like Chester?" said Doc. Matt grinned.

" _Doc,"_ said Kitty. " _No_. Chester's just sensitive. He's not tetched with lunacy like Lance Prescott." They watched through the window as Chester practiced rope tricks outside on the walk, threatening an imaginary opponent.

"Well, he'll be our Chester, such as he is, until the next enchanting gal shows up at the Long Branch, sparkin' and tilting his head," said Doc.

"I've had my fill of enchanting gals a spell," said Matt. "That is, except for one." And he smiled at Kitty.


End file.
